Commentary by Nicholas Toms Carrington:

Pass we notThat creek, leaf shaded, on our left, which leadsThe voyager to TAMERTON'S still valeAnd beautiful, without a passing tearTo him who lov'd it, and who rear'd his bower,—His classic bower so near it. Gentle bardWhom Genius, Talent, Virtue yet deplore,Long be thy memory rever'd; and oftAs the last beam of Evening gilds the west,With pensive step may Plymouth's sorrowing sonsBe lingering found, where in thy honor'd tomb,Thou sleep'st, — sweet Poet of the "Summer's Eve."